September 28, 2011 § 7 Comments
A new FCKH8 video I just wanted to share.
February 8, 2011 § Leave a comment
I guess minorities have always been a joke before they can be taken as… well… real. Looking back at old movies: black or asian characters were comic relief. I notice the same with gay characters. Fruity characters mince across the screen keeping up the common myth that queer men are silly, frivolous creatures who are not too smart and are ready to jump any man alive. Lesbians are hard, man hating, bitches. But is it necessary to bring about change. Are the non-gay population more comfortable with gay characters who are “obvious” and “flamboyant” gay? Does it make het people more secure that it is safe to watch the homos, so long as you know that is what they are?
The supercilious Jack on Will and Grace has made way for a more serious Kurt of Glee, or kick ass of Barca in Spartacus? Suddenly “funny” has made way to a more realistic look at a lifestyle that people may or may not agree with. My question, does the comedic idiot have to come before we can really see the human side of minorities? I guess Iam wondering if it the way tv tests the boundaries, or if that is truly the way acceptance is gained.
February 8, 2011 § 3 Comments
Okay, so my Nonna was by last night to clean the house. Now Nonna has never heard of tidying, she guts and rearranges, and mom is not going to like havng her whole house rearranged by her MIL. They do not get along. My mom has never been good enough for my father in his mother’s eyes. She also thinks it is ridiculous that at her age my mom is pregnant.
In saying that, she has always been a brilliant grandmother. Now see, my mom could find a bag of human heads under my bed and she would sit me down and ask if I was having problems… she is that supportive. But Italian grandmother love is a little different. My grandmother would take the evidence, use it to set someone up for the fall, and never bring it up to me, secure in her knowledge that I must have had a perfectly good reason and they had it coming.
Anyway, had some wonderful manicotti last night, I love that woman.
“You should find a nice catholic italian girl.” she is forever telling me. Yep, she knows I’m gay, but she keeps thinking it is something I will get over in time. She thinks I just get this “boy thing” out of my system then settle down with a nice girl.
Working tonight with my least fave vet. He’s okay, but very religious, and tends to make digs about my “preferences”. Preferences my ass. It is not like I prefer men, women do nothing for me. He does not try to push his religion on others, he just feels bad that some people “damn themselves to an afterlife of eternal torment”. Yeah, thanks for not pushing your beliefs. In all honesty, I do not think he tries to be nasty, so I just smile and do my job. Should leave me in the mood for a few drinks right enough.
Picking up my mom tomorrow morning from the hospital:)
May 25, 2010 § 14 Comments
Well, I had decided ot come out. Now I have literally heard dozens of stories of coming out. The sad, the violent, the hopeful, even the funny. Mine was none of the above.
I practiced all day… My mom called me off sick when she saw my pale face that morning and banished me to my room for a rest. She firmly believes that sleep cures all ills. So, I cowardly took the day ot practice what I would say, and thought of all the senarios I have heard about on the internet happening. I even had a ridiculous version of being punched in the face by my dad, though in my entire life I have never even been yelled at by either of my parents. It left me a nervous wreck.
I waited until after my little brother was in bed and went into the living room where Dad was channel surfing and Mom reading a book. “Uh, can I talk to you for a second?”
My parents never said no to a talk. Instantly the tv was muted and Mom turned her book down ot keep her page. Two sets of eyes waiting patiently, and Mom noticed my nervousness. “Oh, God, Jamie, you aren’t failing math again, are you?” My mother, the mathematicla genius has never understood my inability with numbers. I spent months of each year being tutored by her at the diningroom table.
I bit my lip, almost opting for the easy out. “Well, yeah, but that is not what I need ot talk to you about,” I admitting, and I saw my mom lock her hand on my dad’s arm, suddenly scared of something that would make flunking math not important. “Well, the thing is… I just…” I realized I was scaring the shit out of both of them. “I think I am gay.”
My mom sagged against the cushions. “Jesus Christ, Jamie, don’t scare me like that again. I thought you were going ot tell me you knocked up some girl or something.” she put a hand to her chest. “What is this, give your mother a heart attack day?”
I didn;t think she was taking me seriously. “Mom, I’m serious. I’m gay.”
My dad gave me a thoughtful look. “Did something happen to make you think this, James?” he asked. Oh, god, did he think I was going around molesting boys?
My voice small I shoved my hands in my pockets. “No, I just know what I am, and um, am not attracted to.”
“So there were no actions leading up to this discovery,” I realized then my dad had been worried that I had been touched by some pervert who made me question my sexuality. I shook my head. The he relaxed. “O-kay. So, what now? Do you have a boyfriend or something?”
“No,” I denied. Then I shrugged. “But there is a boy I like… he is into guys…”
Mom rolled her eyes. “And so the teenage dating whirlwind begins,” she held her arms up for me to give her a hug, holding on a little longer than she usually did. “Just remember, when I hate your boyfriends it is not because they are boys, it’s because no one will ever be good enough for you.”
My dad came down to my room later and told me he was proud that I believed in them enough to tell them and handed me several boxes of condoms and made me promise to always use a condom, and never the freebees at clinics or cheap ones. That when I ran out ot let him know, and he would buy me more. It is an arrangement we still have, yeah, even at 19 I go to dad for condoms.
So that was it. As promised. Not sad, violent or hopeful, or even funny. Uneventful. Only in my house can you come out of the closet and people act as if you were saying you preferred blue t-shirts to black. I am sure one day when I share this story with other gay males who have gone through this they will tell me how lucky I was. How blessed with understanding. To me… I will always have the most boring coming out story ever.